unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
-- Charles Bukowski, "so you want to be a writer?"
Porcupine’s Secret: An African Folk Tale- Yvonne Tagoe
Once upon a time, Porcupine lived with his family in a neighbourhood of other small animals. He was the star because his spikes protected him from any attacks. His friends came to him for protection and they were never disappointed.
They all wanted to find out from him how anyone could make him cry because there was no place on his body that anyone could touch to hurt him. He always won all the fighting competitions, he was virtually a pin cushion, a thorn ball! He would tell his friends that his ability to win was a secret and that he was strong and invincible.
Then one day while Porcupine was playing with friends who were visiting, he misbehaved and his father decided to punish him with a whipping. He thought his father would wait till his friends were gone. When Father Porcupine pulled out the whip the other animals were surprised and thought, how could he possibly hurt him with that.
Suddenly he flipped Porcupine over and started whipping him on the belly. Porcupine cried and cried, and his friends were surprised at how much he cried. He was actually crying not so much for the pain as for the fact that he had been betrayed by his father. By whipping him in the presence of his friends his father has betrayed him and exposed his weak spot and Porcupine was hurt and didn’t understand why.
The moral of the story?
Guard your weak spot like a treasure.
It takes someone very close to you to betray you.
They all wanted to find out from him how anyone could make him cry because there was no place on his body that anyone could touch to hurt him. He always won all the fighting competitions, he was virtually a pin cushion, a thorn ball! He would tell his friends that his ability to win was a secret and that he was strong and invincible.
Then one day while Porcupine was playing with friends who were visiting, he misbehaved and his father decided to punish him with a whipping. He thought his father would wait till his friends were gone. When Father Porcupine pulled out the whip the other animals were surprised and thought, how could he possibly hurt him with that.
Suddenly he flipped Porcupine over and started whipping him on the belly. Porcupine cried and cried, and his friends were surprised at how much he cried. He was actually crying not so much for the pain as for the fact that he had been betrayed by his father. By whipping him in the presence of his friends his father has betrayed him and exposed his weak spot and Porcupine was hurt and didn’t understand why.
The moral of the story?
Guard your weak spot like a treasure.
It takes someone very close to you to betray you.
Sicko- Suman Varghese
Larissa Gerow was only 21 years old when she was diagnosed with cancer. Four years later she was biking down the street when a truck ran a red light. She happened to be in the way.
Instantly her neck broke, leaving her in intensive care for over a month and confining her to a wheelchair for life. Yet Gerow, now 29, is grateful.
Grateful for the health care system that saved her life. Twice. Free of charge.
So when she heard about Sicko, a new documentary about healthcare, she was excited to see the movie. When she heard that the filmmaker, Michael Moore, was coming to London to premiere it, she knew she had to be there.
Gerow was one of hundreds of people who lined the steps in front of Masonville’s Silvercity Theatre on Friday to see the guests arrive for the 7 p.m. Canadian premiere of the film.
Moore arrived to cheers from the crowd. He posed for pictures, signed autographs and answered questions as he walked down the red carpet.
“I ended up shooting a number of scenes in the film here in London so I thought this was the appropriate place to be in,” said Moore, who didn’t shy away from questions when asked about Canada’s role in the film.
“You as Canadians have as a very core belief that it’s a human right--if you get sick--to see a doctor and not have to worry about paying for it. And our belief [as Americans] is if you get sick--fix your own damn problem. And I don’t want to live in a country that has that attitude.”
An appearance was also made by Shirley Douglas, daughter of Tommy Douglas--founder of the Canadian Medicare system.
“I’m very excited to see [the film]. I am the first one to say that we need enormous improvements made in the health care system, but I do not want it to become what the American health system has become,” said Douglas.
Few people have yet to see the film as it only opens in theatres on June 29. However, those who had seen it through private screenings were full of praise. Richard Crouse, film critic for CTV’s Canada AM and also the host of Friday’s premiere, said he loved the film.
“I walked out of the theatre and kissed the ground, glad to be Canadian.”
Instantly her neck broke, leaving her in intensive care for over a month and confining her to a wheelchair for life. Yet Gerow, now 29, is grateful.
Grateful for the health care system that saved her life. Twice. Free of charge.
So when she heard about Sicko, a new documentary about healthcare, she was excited to see the movie. When she heard that the filmmaker, Michael Moore, was coming to London to premiere it, she knew she had to be there.
Gerow was one of hundreds of people who lined the steps in front of Masonville’s Silvercity Theatre on Friday to see the guests arrive for the 7 p.m. Canadian premiere of the film.
Moore arrived to cheers from the crowd. He posed for pictures, signed autographs and answered questions as he walked down the red carpet.
“I ended up shooting a number of scenes in the film here in London so I thought this was the appropriate place to be in,” said Moore, who didn’t shy away from questions when asked about Canada’s role in the film.
“You as Canadians have as a very core belief that it’s a human right--if you get sick--to see a doctor and not have to worry about paying for it. And our belief [as Americans] is if you get sick--fix your own damn problem. And I don’t want to live in a country that has that attitude.”
An appearance was also made by Shirley Douglas, daughter of Tommy Douglas--founder of the Canadian Medicare system.
“I’m very excited to see [the film]. I am the first one to say that we need enormous improvements made in the health care system, but I do not want it to become what the American health system has become,” said Douglas.
Few people have yet to see the film as it only opens in theatres on June 29. However, those who had seen it through private screenings were full of praise. Richard Crouse, film critic for CTV’s Canada AM and also the host of Friday’s premiere, said he loved the film.
“I walked out of the theatre and kissed the ground, glad to be Canadian.”
Jordan Katz: The Smoker's Man- Kenzie Love
Most aspiring politicians have aspects of their lives they’d prefer to keep hidden. It’s an understandable impulse. Everyone wants – and is entitled to – some measure of privacy.
What’s frustrating is when politicians tell a journalist that something he’s done is irrelevant, but suggests to certain members of the public it’s a prime reason they should vote for him. Candidates shouldn’t be allowed to have it both ways, but one London man is trying to do exactly that.
Jordan Katz is the Conservative nominee for Parliament in the riding of London-Fanshawe. He’s currently a consultant with mychoice.ca, a smokers’ rights group funded by the tobacco industry. He seems to have gauged that his career will make him popular with the riding’s smokers (why else would he advertise his candidacy on the mychoice website?) At the same time, however, he appears to be trying to keep his occupation a secret from everyone else, insisting during an interview that it’s “separate” from his activities as a Conservative candidate.
Katz has no real political experience. He’s run for office once before, and he’s served as a campaign manager, but that’s it. But he apparently wants voters to overlook his lack of experience both as a politician or holding any other job and vote for him anyway, because he’s gone door to door and listened to their concerns. Kudos to him, but a lot of people could do this. Why is he a better choice than any of them?
It may well be that Katz’s experience as a tobacco lobbyist has prepared him for a career as an MP. As one wag observed, politicians and lobbyists “both seem to lie a lot”. On a more serious note, Katz sounded reasonably convincing when he talked to another Western journalism student for an article published in March. He argued that his work for my choice had reminded him of the importance of individual rights, and the fact that smokers deserve to have their voices heard.
It’s probably not enough to convince many people to vote for him (people who, not without cause, are suspicious of anything funded by Big Tobacco and anyone running under the Conservative banner), but at least he addressed the issue head on, and frankness is a quality sorely lacking in politicians these days.
Being candid about his career may well cost Jordan Katz some votes. But it might also earn him support from people who value experience and candour in politicians, rather than evasiveness.
What’s frustrating is when politicians tell a journalist that something he’s done is irrelevant, but suggests to certain members of the public it’s a prime reason they should vote for him. Candidates shouldn’t be allowed to have it both ways, but one London man is trying to do exactly that.
Jordan Katz is the Conservative nominee for Parliament in the riding of London-Fanshawe. He’s currently a consultant with mychoice.ca, a smokers’ rights group funded by the tobacco industry. He seems to have gauged that his career will make him popular with the riding’s smokers (why else would he advertise his candidacy on the mychoice website?) At the same time, however, he appears to be trying to keep his occupation a secret from everyone else, insisting during an interview that it’s “separate” from his activities as a Conservative candidate.
Katz has no real political experience. He’s run for office once before, and he’s served as a campaign manager, but that’s it. But he apparently wants voters to overlook his lack of experience both as a politician or holding any other job and vote for him anyway, because he’s gone door to door and listened to their concerns. Kudos to him, but a lot of people could do this. Why is he a better choice than any of them?
It may well be that Katz’s experience as a tobacco lobbyist has prepared him for a career as an MP. As one wag observed, politicians and lobbyists “both seem to lie a lot”. On a more serious note, Katz sounded reasonably convincing when he talked to another Western journalism student for an article published in March. He argued that his work for my choice had reminded him of the importance of individual rights, and the fact that smokers deserve to have their voices heard.
It’s probably not enough to convince many people to vote for him (people who, not without cause, are suspicious of anything funded by Big Tobacco and anyone running under the Conservative banner), but at least he addressed the issue head on, and frankness is a quality sorely lacking in politicians these days.
Being candid about his career may well cost Jordan Katz some votes. But it might also earn him support from people who value experience and candour in politicians, rather than evasiveness.
Shelf Monkeys- Kate Kennedy
Corey Redekop wants you to buy his book and read it. Or burn it.
Just don’t write in the margins.
It’s only fitting that the characters in his first novel, entitled Shelf Monkey, get a thrill by burning books in secret, late-night ceremonies. They would never scribble in one though, Redekop says it’s just not right.
Redekop talked about his novel and read excerpts from it to a room of 21 people at London’s Central Library last June. The library director and graduate of the University of Western Ontario simply beamed as he laughed and joked with friends and fans.
The novel is about a group of disgruntled employees at Winnipeg’s newest “mega-box-hyper-super-huge bookstore,” as Redekop puts it. When they grow frustrated with customers asking only for the titles recommended by a popular talk-show host, the employees form a group called the “shelf monkeys”, and decide to start burning the particularly bad literature, he said.
Redekop adopted the voice of his lead character, Thomas Friesen, during the reading, and hardly a minute went by without the sound of laughter erupting from the audience.
“The reading was great,” said Tatiana Murkin, 27, “[He] is really funny and quirky.”
Redekop said he is generally a pretty shy guy--but it didn’t show on Saturday. As listener’s laughed at his jokes, Redekop smiled broadly. He also told the audience that his novel is featured in the June 2007 issue of Chatelaine magazine, as one of the best books to read this summer. One of the other featured novels is by Judy Blume. Which makes sense, he said, because he was voted “Most Likely to Become the Next Judy Blume” in high school.
London’s Central Library has about six readings per year, said Ellie Contursi, 39, Central Library’s fiction librarian. The main reason for readings is to support authors, she said, especially Canadian authors.
“I loved [Shelf Monkey],” said Sarah Dunn, 28, the ECW publicist, “Canadian Literature isn’t known for being funny.”
Redekop, like his lead character, started as a lawyer but left the profession after three months. The emotional stress of working in legal aid was just too high, he said.
“I left law just because I hated it. I really couldn’t stand it anymore.”
After leaving the law, Redekop worked at a Chapters bookstore, where he called himself and his co-workers “shelf monkeys” because they were always shelving books, he said. It’s also where he got the idea for his novel.
“Oprah’s book club was huge then,” he said, “People came in and only asked for her picks. It’s frustrating when no-one cares what you think.”
His idea may not have flourished if it had not been for The International 3-Day Novel Contest in 2002, he said, which he participated in over Labour Day weekend. The contest involved would-be authors writing almost constantly over a three-day period. The person with the best story won the opportunity to publish a novel. Redekop didn’t win but he did come away with 25,000 words of his first novel, he said.
So he sent the beginnings of it to the writer-in-residence of the Winnipeg Public Library at the time, Miriam Toews—who is now known for her top-selling novel A Complicated Kindness. Redekop said she encouraged him to keep writing, which he often did in the Starbucks that he worked at after he left Chapters.
“It’s true,” he said, “You can write a book in a coffee shop, in a Starbucks, and get it published.”
Redekop finished his novel just before starting his Masters in Information and Library Science at Western in 2004. While he was at Western he looked for a publishing company for his novel. He was lucky to get interest from the third company he applied to, ECW Press, he said.
“I loved the book proposal. In one page I could see the whole book,” said Jen Hale, 34, at the reading. Hale is Redekop’s editor from ECW.
Redekop said on Saturday that aspiring writers should try and find their own voice and a publishing company that fits well with it. However, not everyone should try and write a book, he said. He compared low-brow, and often popular, literature to eating McDonald’s fast-food.
“You feel sick after reading those [books], you don’t feel full, you don’t feel nourished, you feel used,” he said.
The Da Vinci Code, for example, is a book that both Redekop and his characters wish was never written.
“It’s not that it’s a bad story, it’s actually a quite entertaining story—but the guy can’t write a sentence to save his life,” said Redekop, of Dan Brown, author of the vastly popular The Da Vinci Code.
Still, Redekop doesn’t blame readers if they burn his novel like the “shelf monkeys” do.
“That’s the irony, of course, of writing a book about bad literature, this book is probably bad literature anyway,” he said with a laugh
Just don’t write in the margins.
It’s only fitting that the characters in his first novel, entitled Shelf Monkey, get a thrill by burning books in secret, late-night ceremonies. They would never scribble in one though, Redekop says it’s just not right.
Redekop talked about his novel and read excerpts from it to a room of 21 people at London’s Central Library last June. The library director and graduate of the University of Western Ontario simply beamed as he laughed and joked with friends and fans.
The novel is about a group of disgruntled employees at Winnipeg’s newest “mega-box-hyper-super-huge bookstore,” as Redekop puts it. When they grow frustrated with customers asking only for the titles recommended by a popular talk-show host, the employees form a group called the “shelf monkeys”, and decide to start burning the particularly bad literature, he said.
Redekop adopted the voice of his lead character, Thomas Friesen, during the reading, and hardly a minute went by without the sound of laughter erupting from the audience.
“The reading was great,” said Tatiana Murkin, 27, “[He] is really funny and quirky.”
Redekop said he is generally a pretty shy guy--but it didn’t show on Saturday. As listener’s laughed at his jokes, Redekop smiled broadly. He also told the audience that his novel is featured in the June 2007 issue of Chatelaine magazine, as one of the best books to read this summer. One of the other featured novels is by Judy Blume. Which makes sense, he said, because he was voted “Most Likely to Become the Next Judy Blume” in high school.
London’s Central Library has about six readings per year, said Ellie Contursi, 39, Central Library’s fiction librarian. The main reason for readings is to support authors, she said, especially Canadian authors.
“I loved [Shelf Monkey],” said Sarah Dunn, 28, the ECW publicist, “Canadian Literature isn’t known for being funny.”
Redekop, like his lead character, started as a lawyer but left the profession after three months. The emotional stress of working in legal aid was just too high, he said.
“I left law just because I hated it. I really couldn’t stand it anymore.”
After leaving the law, Redekop worked at a Chapters bookstore, where he called himself and his co-workers “shelf monkeys” because they were always shelving books, he said. It’s also where he got the idea for his novel.
“Oprah’s book club was huge then,” he said, “People came in and only asked for her picks. It’s frustrating when no-one cares what you think.”
His idea may not have flourished if it had not been for The International 3-Day Novel Contest in 2002, he said, which he participated in over Labour Day weekend. The contest involved would-be authors writing almost constantly over a three-day period. The person with the best story won the opportunity to publish a novel. Redekop didn’t win but he did come away with 25,000 words of his first novel, he said.
So he sent the beginnings of it to the writer-in-residence of the Winnipeg Public Library at the time, Miriam Toews—who is now known for her top-selling novel A Complicated Kindness. Redekop said she encouraged him to keep writing, which he often did in the Starbucks that he worked at after he left Chapters.
“It’s true,” he said, “You can write a book in a coffee shop, in a Starbucks, and get it published.”
Redekop finished his novel just before starting his Masters in Information and Library Science at Western in 2004. While he was at Western he looked for a publishing company for his novel. He was lucky to get interest from the third company he applied to, ECW Press, he said.
“I loved the book proposal. In one page I could see the whole book,” said Jen Hale, 34, at the reading. Hale is Redekop’s editor from ECW.
Redekop said on Saturday that aspiring writers should try and find their own voice and a publishing company that fits well with it. However, not everyone should try and write a book, he said. He compared low-brow, and often popular, literature to eating McDonald’s fast-food.
“You feel sick after reading those [books], you don’t feel full, you don’t feel nourished, you feel used,” he said.
The Da Vinci Code, for example, is a book that both Redekop and his characters wish was never written.
“It’s not that it’s a bad story, it’s actually a quite entertaining story—but the guy can’t write a sentence to save his life,” said Redekop, of Dan Brown, author of the vastly popular The Da Vinci Code.
Still, Redekop doesn’t blame readers if they burn his novel like the “shelf monkeys” do.
“That’s the irony, of course, of writing a book about bad literature, this book is probably bad literature anyway,” he said with a laugh
Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust- Joanne Yeung
His mother died when he was a teenager, and he didn’t have any say in what happened to her body. The burial plot cost tens of thousands of dollars, and the casket was another several thousand. He paid it all off—eventually. But that wasn’t the hard part.
What really haunted him was the idea of his mother decomposing. “I don’t know what’s freakier, rotting or being preserved till the metal decays and then rotting.” Shawn Chow, now 23, of Toronto said.
“Cremation has a more comfortable feel for me,” Chow said. “Once you were whole, and then you’re not.”
While not everyone may share Chow’s sentiments, alternatives to the traditional burial are becoming increasingly popular.
The decision to burn bodily remains in Canada grew to 56 per cent in 2005 from 40 per cent in 1995, according to Statistics Canada. “Some people just don’t feel comfortable being buried,” said Bill Webb, 47, funeral director of London’s Needham Funeral Service. “Cremation is just a faster way of returning to your basic element,” said Webb.
But the basic element may not be enough anymore.
A few funeral services now offer even more options after cremation. Instead of sitting on a mantelpiece, Aunt Mabel can now literally go out with a bang with an elaborate fireworks display.
After cremation, funeral directors put the ashes into specially made fireworks which are then blown into the atmosphere, says the website for Angel’s Flight, one of the only North American based companies which provides this service. The cost sits at about $5,000 but Angel’s Flight says that the fireworks are a way to celebrate a loved one’s life rather than mourn a death.
For those who are wary of being fired into the sky, memorial diamonds can also be created from cremains, giving new meaning to the term family jewels.
LifeGem is a company based in the US, but with a global reach, including partners in Toronto, according to its website.
The company’s website explains the process as extracting carbon from ashes before putting the extracts under high heat and pressure to create a diamond. The cheapest diamond starts from just under $3,000, but some feel that the results are well worth the extra money. “I felt as if my mother's life essence was contained within the diamond,” wrote Laura Andreini on the LifeGem website.
Others find the concept difficult to grasp. “The human diamond seems weird,” Chow said. “(It) would just be a reminder to me that someone isn’t here anymore.”
These two options are man-made said Webb, and many people find that the concepts go against their values of ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and returning to nature. But, he said, there is always a possibility that they may become trendy, although he has yet to see the human diamond.
There are a number of reasons alternatives to the traditional burial are rising in popularity, Webb said. One factor is space. Shortage of land is quickly becoming an issue for many overpopulated countries. “Mount Pleasant Cemetery was in the country when it was founded,” Webb said of one of Toronto’s cemeteries which now spans through two busy city blocks. “It’s absolutely massive, and they’ve run out of space.”
In London, blocks of land outside of the city limits have already been purchased for burial use, but Webb noted that if the population trend continues to grow as it is, space will also run out.
On top of the lack of land, pricing is also a big factor. The minimum for a traditional funeral costs $3,000, but Webb said caskets alone can go into the hundreds of thousands.
People also often want to spend more lavishly on the deceased, said Chris Burris, a professor of the psychology of death and dying at the University of Waterloo, adding that the average North American funeral costs about $7,000.
Burris also said that health concerns and “sacred space” put constraints around local planning and compound the problem of graveyard roominess.
In order to combat the space problem, there are advocates for “green” burials, said Burris who has also published a study on the relation of oneself to death spaces. A green burial involves the minimum amount of preparation, and burial is typically in a forest with or without a marker, Burris said. “(They) have the least negative impact on the environment, not adding to greenhouse gases like cremation does.” The body decomposes and there isn’t a giant coffin taking up room or slowing down the process.
Green burials are on the rise in popularity, but while many people enjoy the idea of going green in an eco-friendly world, traditional, cultural, and religious norms make the green burial seem a little too simplistic.
Chow said he still feels disappointed that his extended family took over his mother’s funeral, but he’s learned not to let it get to him. “(The burial) was mainly for them,” he said. “I’ve never needed physical things to get me over something. I have my memories and that’s all I’ll ever need.”
What really haunted him was the idea of his mother decomposing. “I don’t know what’s freakier, rotting or being preserved till the metal decays and then rotting.” Shawn Chow, now 23, of Toronto said.
“Cremation has a more comfortable feel for me,” Chow said. “Once you were whole, and then you’re not.”
While not everyone may share Chow’s sentiments, alternatives to the traditional burial are becoming increasingly popular.
The decision to burn bodily remains in Canada grew to 56 per cent in 2005 from 40 per cent in 1995, according to Statistics Canada. “Some people just don’t feel comfortable being buried,” said Bill Webb, 47, funeral director of London’s Needham Funeral Service. “Cremation is just a faster way of returning to your basic element,” said Webb.
But the basic element may not be enough anymore.
A few funeral services now offer even more options after cremation. Instead of sitting on a mantelpiece, Aunt Mabel can now literally go out with a bang with an elaborate fireworks display.
After cremation, funeral directors put the ashes into specially made fireworks which are then blown into the atmosphere, says the website for Angel’s Flight, one of the only North American based companies which provides this service. The cost sits at about $5,000 but Angel’s Flight says that the fireworks are a way to celebrate a loved one’s life rather than mourn a death.
For those who are wary of being fired into the sky, memorial diamonds can also be created from cremains, giving new meaning to the term family jewels.
LifeGem is a company based in the US, but with a global reach, including partners in Toronto, according to its website.
The company’s website explains the process as extracting carbon from ashes before putting the extracts under high heat and pressure to create a diamond. The cheapest diamond starts from just under $3,000, but some feel that the results are well worth the extra money. “I felt as if my mother's life essence was contained within the diamond,” wrote Laura Andreini on the LifeGem website.
Others find the concept difficult to grasp. “The human diamond seems weird,” Chow said. “(It) would just be a reminder to me that someone isn’t here anymore.”
These two options are man-made said Webb, and many people find that the concepts go against their values of ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and returning to nature. But, he said, there is always a possibility that they may become trendy, although he has yet to see the human diamond.
There are a number of reasons alternatives to the traditional burial are rising in popularity, Webb said. One factor is space. Shortage of land is quickly becoming an issue for many overpopulated countries. “Mount Pleasant Cemetery was in the country when it was founded,” Webb said of one of Toronto’s cemeteries which now spans through two busy city blocks. “It’s absolutely massive, and they’ve run out of space.”
In London, blocks of land outside of the city limits have already been purchased for burial use, but Webb noted that if the population trend continues to grow as it is, space will also run out.
On top of the lack of land, pricing is also a big factor. The minimum for a traditional funeral costs $3,000, but Webb said caskets alone can go into the hundreds of thousands.
People also often want to spend more lavishly on the deceased, said Chris Burris, a professor of the psychology of death and dying at the University of Waterloo, adding that the average North American funeral costs about $7,000.
Burris also said that health concerns and “sacred space” put constraints around local planning and compound the problem of graveyard roominess.
In order to combat the space problem, there are advocates for “green” burials, said Burris who has also published a study on the relation of oneself to death spaces. A green burial involves the minimum amount of preparation, and burial is typically in a forest with or without a marker, Burris said. “(They) have the least negative impact on the environment, not adding to greenhouse gases like cremation does.” The body decomposes and there isn’t a giant coffin taking up room or slowing down the process.
Green burials are on the rise in popularity, but while many people enjoy the idea of going green in an eco-friendly world, traditional, cultural, and religious norms make the green burial seem a little too simplistic.
Chow said he still feels disappointed that his extended family took over his mother’s funeral, but he’s learned not to let it get to him. “(The burial) was mainly for them,” he said. “I’ve never needed physical things to get me over something. I have my memories and that’s all I’ll ever need.”
Yoga Fabulous- Kate Daley
The wood studio smells of grapefruit, lime and organic cleaning products. Heat emanates from the floor as people contort their sweat-drenched bodies. The concentrated nose-breathing of 20 students echoes eerily like a group of scuba divers underwater. The room temperature sits at a balmy 40 degrees and it’s just beginning.
Most children don’t say they hope to be a yoga instructor when they grow up. “At first, my family thought I was insane,” says Annette Mellor, 49, the manager and yoga instructor at Moksha Yoga London.
While Mellor now teaches people about their inner strength and how to stretch into a back bend, she wasn’t always so Zen. Coming from England when she was 30-years-old, Mellor says she worked as an executive assistant to a vice-president at a top Canadian bank. She began to practice yoga to help balance her hectic career.
Ironically, Mellor hated her first Moksha yoga class. Moksha yoga is an intense style of yoga postures in a heated room where you never leave the mat, says Mellor. But she came back to try another class and fell in love with the practice.
She felt ready to leave her corporate job during a takeover by another bank and colleagues suggested she teach her passion— yoga. Her two adult children thought she was having a mid-life crisis, Mellor says with a smile.
“It’s fulfilling in a different way,” says the muscular strawberry blond instructor. Being a yoga instructor is definitely not the 9 to 5 job that Mellor once had, but she doesn’t regret her decision at all.
“I love that it’s not corporate here…They let me treat it like my own,” she says of the way she manages the Mill Street studio.
Mellor describes Moksha yoga as a community— she greets almost every student by name and barely has a moment to sit and talk. She hasn’t sat down since 6 a.m., she says as she gulps a berry smoothie.
“People need yoga,” she says. “There is no set person [who practices]. My youngest student is six-years-old and my oldest is 81.”
Mellor is also known to have a good sense of humour as she makes apparent in some of her remarks about interesting classes.
“People fart in class,” Mellor laughs. “I teach a posture that I call ‘wind-removing’- and it’s called ‘wind-removing’ for a reason.” Some people also have giggle fits in class she says, which is fine because yoga is made for everyone regardless of their experience or age.
“I continually learn from students,” she says, “or I wouldn’t progress.”
Most children don’t say they hope to be a yoga instructor when they grow up. “At first, my family thought I was insane,” says Annette Mellor, 49, the manager and yoga instructor at Moksha Yoga London.
While Mellor now teaches people about their inner strength and how to stretch into a back bend, she wasn’t always so Zen. Coming from England when she was 30-years-old, Mellor says she worked as an executive assistant to a vice-president at a top Canadian bank. She began to practice yoga to help balance her hectic career.
Ironically, Mellor hated her first Moksha yoga class. Moksha yoga is an intense style of yoga postures in a heated room where you never leave the mat, says Mellor. But she came back to try another class and fell in love with the practice.
She felt ready to leave her corporate job during a takeover by another bank and colleagues suggested she teach her passion— yoga. Her two adult children thought she was having a mid-life crisis, Mellor says with a smile.
“It’s fulfilling in a different way,” says the muscular strawberry blond instructor. Being a yoga instructor is definitely not the 9 to 5 job that Mellor once had, but she doesn’t regret her decision at all.
“I love that it’s not corporate here…They let me treat it like my own,” she says of the way she manages the Mill Street studio.
Mellor describes Moksha yoga as a community— she greets almost every student by name and barely has a moment to sit and talk. She hasn’t sat down since 6 a.m., she says as she gulps a berry smoothie.
“People need yoga,” she says. “There is no set person [who practices]. My youngest student is six-years-old and my oldest is 81.”
Mellor is also known to have a good sense of humour as she makes apparent in some of her remarks about interesting classes.
“People fart in class,” Mellor laughs. “I teach a posture that I call ‘wind-removing’- and it’s called ‘wind-removing’ for a reason.” Some people also have giggle fits in class she says, which is fine because yoga is made for everyone regardless of their experience or age.
“I continually learn from students,” she says, “or I wouldn’t progress.”
Snake Lady- Jenni Dunning
Eleven-year-old Darek Szarkowski has a tarantula on his head.
“Do you like my hat?” he asks a group of pre-schoolers who stare wide-eyed at the fuzzy creature.
On a stage behind him are 15 clear, plastic cages holding snakes, spiders, amphibians and reptiles. These creepy crawlies were at the Children’s Museum May 19 as part of an interactive presentation by Val Williams, known as the Snake Lady, about animals and the environment.
Darek’s mother, Barb Szarkowski, of London, said he has always been interested in reptiles.
He has attended more than 50 of Williams’ shows, she said, and he was asked to volunteer as her assistant about four years ago because of his enthusiasm for snakes.
But don’t call him a reptile expert just yet.
“I only know a small fraction of whatever there is to know about these animals,” said Darek, who has snakes, frogs, dwarf hamsters, a snapping turtle, a gerbil and fish as pets.
His love of reptiles helped cure his mother’s fear of them, though.
“It was (Darek’s) turn to hold the boa constrictor (at one of Williams’ shows) and I think it weighed as much as he did,” said Barb. “He’s a bit of a stubborn child so he insisted that I come over to touch the snake. . . . It wasn’t slimy and it wasn’t what I expected.”
Parts of Williams’ shows deal with breaking down stereotypes of snakes as scary and to describe how they are an important part of nature.
“There is absolutely no reason to kill a snake,” said Williams. “My dad taught me never to kill a creature on this earth, unless you’re raising a cow for dinner.”
Williams has hosted her show at the museum for the past 10 years, the last five on a monthly basis.
Her personality is as colourful as her clothing. She wore a sparkly leopard-and-tiger-print blouse and khaki pants. Before introducing any animals she told the audience to be friendly to the environment.
“We hear a lot of bad things about planet Earth and it’s concerned me ever since I was a little girl,” she said. “It’s the only home we’ve got so remember to do kind things to it.”
She speaks easily to groups of children about habitats as she feeds small, white mice to two snakes.
Williams’ interactive style is part of what makes her such a huge draw for the museum and a crowd of 50 people is not uncommon at one of her shows, said public programs manager Amanda Branton.
Parents also appreciate the educational aspects of her shows, said Barb, who views them as important to the environment’s future.
“The world needs all these creatures and it needs the young people to protect them,” she said.
Two days before his 12th birthday, Darek said he wants to teach people about animals by creating a solar-powered reptile and amphibian zoo when he grows up.
“I really like animals and I (want to) show the people that these animals aren’t scary,” he said, adding he wants to open the zoo on an island in Canada.
“Or maybe in the United States so I can save on heating bills,” he said.
Sitting quietly among the cages of reptiles, watching nearby children gaze at the animals, Darek is on his way to learning more about and befriending reptiles – just ask the garter snake wrapped around his neck.
“Do you like my hat?” he asks a group of pre-schoolers who stare wide-eyed at the fuzzy creature.
On a stage behind him are 15 clear, plastic cages holding snakes, spiders, amphibians and reptiles. These creepy crawlies were at the Children’s Museum May 19 as part of an interactive presentation by Val Williams, known as the Snake Lady, about animals and the environment.
Darek’s mother, Barb Szarkowski, of London, said he has always been interested in reptiles.
He has attended more than 50 of Williams’ shows, she said, and he was asked to volunteer as her assistant about four years ago because of his enthusiasm for snakes.
But don’t call him a reptile expert just yet.
“I only know a small fraction of whatever there is to know about these animals,” said Darek, who has snakes, frogs, dwarf hamsters, a snapping turtle, a gerbil and fish as pets.
His love of reptiles helped cure his mother’s fear of them, though.
“It was (Darek’s) turn to hold the boa constrictor (at one of Williams’ shows) and I think it weighed as much as he did,” said Barb. “He’s a bit of a stubborn child so he insisted that I come over to touch the snake. . . . It wasn’t slimy and it wasn’t what I expected.”
Parts of Williams’ shows deal with breaking down stereotypes of snakes as scary and to describe how they are an important part of nature.
“There is absolutely no reason to kill a snake,” said Williams. “My dad taught me never to kill a creature on this earth, unless you’re raising a cow for dinner.”
Williams has hosted her show at the museum for the past 10 years, the last five on a monthly basis.
Her personality is as colourful as her clothing. She wore a sparkly leopard-and-tiger-print blouse and khaki pants. Before introducing any animals she told the audience to be friendly to the environment.
“We hear a lot of bad things about planet Earth and it’s concerned me ever since I was a little girl,” she said. “It’s the only home we’ve got so remember to do kind things to it.”
She speaks easily to groups of children about habitats as she feeds small, white mice to two snakes.
Williams’ interactive style is part of what makes her such a huge draw for the museum and a crowd of 50 people is not uncommon at one of her shows, said public programs manager Amanda Branton.
Parents also appreciate the educational aspects of her shows, said Barb, who views them as important to the environment’s future.
“The world needs all these creatures and it needs the young people to protect them,” she said.
Two days before his 12th birthday, Darek said he wants to teach people about animals by creating a solar-powered reptile and amphibian zoo when he grows up.
“I really like animals and I (want to) show the people that these animals aren’t scary,” he said, adding he wants to open the zoo on an island in Canada.
“Or maybe in the United States so I can save on heating bills,” he said.
Sitting quietly among the cages of reptiles, watching nearby children gaze at the animals, Darek is on his way to learning more about and befriending reptiles – just ask the garter snake wrapped around his neck.
Deer Hunt- Jenni Dunning
A fall deer hunt in the Sifton Bog will slash the highest density population of white-tailed deer in Ontario if approved by city councillors June 20.
The bog isn’t meant to hold its approximately 57 deer, said Dan Jones, an operations manager at the Upper Thames River Conservation Authority, who has been telling councillors this for six years.
He will recommend to councillors at a meeting Wednesday to have a bow and arrow deer hunt to reduce the population to a more reasonable level, he said.
“Between 12 and 15 would be acceptable for a sustainable population of (white-tailed deer) in one square mile, which is (256 hectares),” he said.
Jones, who specializes in environmentally significant areas, meets with councillors every three months to discuss education and enforcement issues about London’s six natural areas administered by Upper Thames.
The bog, located at the corner of Oxford Street and Hyde Park Road, is about 28 hectares, meaning the animals are overpopulated in that area, he said.
A number of factors explain an increased deer population, including about a 30 per cent higher breeding rate and no natural enemies to keep numbers down, he said.
To have a fall hunt, paperwork must be completed by the end of July, but Jones said he has been unsuccessful in influencing councillors’ decisions in the past.
“We always bring (the hunt) up. My job is to bring (them) the information and then the councillors make the choice,” he said. “They don’t understand, they’re not (in the bog). There will have to be a harvest.”
At past meetings, councillors have asked for more information on the deer and proposed other options, such as better fencing, which accounts for a delay in the hunt, said Jones.
Although the conservation authority owns about 90 per cent of the bog, “we would have to have the City of London’s approval . . . and support” for a hunt, he said.
The city and Drewlo, a real estate company, own the rest of the property.
But killing deer in the city is a political bomb with which councillors are weary to get involved, said Jones.
“It’s a controversial issue, politically,” said David Winninger, a city councillor and chair of the community and protective services committee. “I don’t know how much of an appetite there is for going out and slaughtering deer.”
He said councillors aren’t pushing for a hunt because they’re not convinced it’s necessary.
Vegetation studies and a winter aerial survey of the bog about three years ago suggest a hunt is not yet needed, said Winninger.
“(The survey showed) there seemed to be less deer than we were told,” he said. “We were told in between 50 to 60 deer but only (23) could be determined.”
Public opinion on the issue is mixed.
Londoners have taken action for and against a hunt in the bog, such as complaining to conservation authorities that deer are eating their plants, or putting up signs that read, How could you kill Rudolph?
There have also been similar deer concerns across Canada within the last two years—from Edgerton, Alta. to Hampton, N.B.—including animal rights, road safety and deer diseases.
But a hunt is positive and would save the city money in the long run, said Jones.
For example, it costs $150 to $200 to pick up and cremate one dead deer, which can weigh up to 270 pounds, he said.
There were 149 deer roadkills in London last year, with about 15 around the perimeter of the bog, according to a 2006 report compiled from police records.
Jones said it’s too early to estimate a budget for a hunt, but that less deer in the bog means lower costs for enforcement of the animals’ actions.
More deer are getting hit by cars partially because of the effects of nearby land development and expansion, said Jones, adding the deer had access to about 59 hectares before any construction began.
The bog will “never” be developed because the city protects its conservation rights, said Jones, but a housing complex called Marsh Trails is being built directly south of the bog on private land that used to be bean fields.
The beans were part of the deer’s food, so without them they are decimating the bog’s plant life and are venturing into the surrounding residential areas looking for something to eat, he said.
“They started to go to backyards and wherever they could,” he said, adding some people also leave out buckets of cabbage for them. “The deer are so domesticated they have no sense of what they’re supposed to be doing.”
While Jones said this is wrong, other area residents said the deer should be protected no matter what.
“I think we should stop building everywhere and keep our natural areas where they should be instead of taking away all their land,” said Carrie Bernardo, 28, who lived on Quinton Rd., a five-minute walk from the bog, for one year.
She saw a deer running down Valetta Street near Westdale Public School and said it was “sad” to see it away from the bog.
“I was scared because it saw my (headlights) and it started running really fast down the sidewalk,” she said.
But Jones said he doesn’t mind the complaints “because it throws a question in the councilors’ minds” about the deer hunt.
“I don’t see what else can be done,” said Bill Judd, 91, a retired biology professor at the University of Western Ontario who has been researching the bog since 1956. “The point of the thing is that they’re over-protected so the population exploded.”
Judd, who has written over 50 articles on the bog, said white-tailed deer were “scarce” in the 1960s but their current numbers need to be controlled.
“The deer feed on shrubs,” some of which “don’t occur anywhere else in the area,” he said.
“Someone’s going to have to sit down and settle it.”
The bog isn’t meant to hold its approximately 57 deer, said Dan Jones, an operations manager at the Upper Thames River Conservation Authority, who has been telling councillors this for six years.
He will recommend to councillors at a meeting Wednesday to have a bow and arrow deer hunt to reduce the population to a more reasonable level, he said.
“Between 12 and 15 would be acceptable for a sustainable population of (white-tailed deer) in one square mile, which is (256 hectares),” he said.
Jones, who specializes in environmentally significant areas, meets with councillors every three months to discuss education and enforcement issues about London’s six natural areas administered by Upper Thames.
The bog, located at the corner of Oxford Street and Hyde Park Road, is about 28 hectares, meaning the animals are overpopulated in that area, he said.
A number of factors explain an increased deer population, including about a 30 per cent higher breeding rate and no natural enemies to keep numbers down, he said.
To have a fall hunt, paperwork must be completed by the end of July, but Jones said he has been unsuccessful in influencing councillors’ decisions in the past.
“We always bring (the hunt) up. My job is to bring (them) the information and then the councillors make the choice,” he said. “They don’t understand, they’re not (in the bog). There will have to be a harvest.”
At past meetings, councillors have asked for more information on the deer and proposed other options, such as better fencing, which accounts for a delay in the hunt, said Jones.
Although the conservation authority owns about 90 per cent of the bog, “we would have to have the City of London’s approval . . . and support” for a hunt, he said.
The city and Drewlo, a real estate company, own the rest of the property.
But killing deer in the city is a political bomb with which councillors are weary to get involved, said Jones.
“It’s a controversial issue, politically,” said David Winninger, a city councillor and chair of the community and protective services committee. “I don’t know how much of an appetite there is for going out and slaughtering deer.”
He said councillors aren’t pushing for a hunt because they’re not convinced it’s necessary.
Vegetation studies and a winter aerial survey of the bog about three years ago suggest a hunt is not yet needed, said Winninger.
“(The survey showed) there seemed to be less deer than we were told,” he said. “We were told in between 50 to 60 deer but only (23) could be determined.”
Public opinion on the issue is mixed.
Londoners have taken action for and against a hunt in the bog, such as complaining to conservation authorities that deer are eating their plants, or putting up signs that read, How could you kill Rudolph?
There have also been similar deer concerns across Canada within the last two years—from Edgerton, Alta. to Hampton, N.B.—including animal rights, road safety and deer diseases.
But a hunt is positive and would save the city money in the long run, said Jones.
For example, it costs $150 to $200 to pick up and cremate one dead deer, which can weigh up to 270 pounds, he said.
There were 149 deer roadkills in London last year, with about 15 around the perimeter of the bog, according to a 2006 report compiled from police records.
Jones said it’s too early to estimate a budget for a hunt, but that less deer in the bog means lower costs for enforcement of the animals’ actions.
More deer are getting hit by cars partially because of the effects of nearby land development and expansion, said Jones, adding the deer had access to about 59 hectares before any construction began.
The bog will “never” be developed because the city protects its conservation rights, said Jones, but a housing complex called Marsh Trails is being built directly south of the bog on private land that used to be bean fields.
The beans were part of the deer’s food, so without them they are decimating the bog’s plant life and are venturing into the surrounding residential areas looking for something to eat, he said.
“They started to go to backyards and wherever they could,” he said, adding some people also leave out buckets of cabbage for them. “The deer are so domesticated they have no sense of what they’re supposed to be doing.”
While Jones said this is wrong, other area residents said the deer should be protected no matter what.
“I think we should stop building everywhere and keep our natural areas where they should be instead of taking away all their land,” said Carrie Bernardo, 28, who lived on Quinton Rd., a five-minute walk from the bog, for one year.
She saw a deer running down Valetta Street near Westdale Public School and said it was “sad” to see it away from the bog.
“I was scared because it saw my (headlights) and it started running really fast down the sidewalk,” she said.
But Jones said he doesn’t mind the complaints “because it throws a question in the councilors’ minds” about the deer hunt.
“I don’t see what else can be done,” said Bill Judd, 91, a retired biology professor at the University of Western Ontario who has been researching the bog since 1956. “The point of the thing is that they’re over-protected so the population exploded.”
Judd, who has written over 50 articles on the bog, said white-tailed deer were “scarce” in the 1960s but their current numbers need to be controlled.
“The deer feed on shrubs,” some of which “don’t occur anywhere else in the area,” he said.
“Someone’s going to have to sit down and settle it.”
Sicko- Alice Wu
A sickening event took place this past Friday and the crowd that gathered around it cheered as they snapped pictures.
But this wasn’t the scene of a gruesome crime, and the people weren’t blood-thirsty voyeurs.
The event was the London debut of Sicko, and hundreds of fans surrounded the red carpet outside the Silvercity at Masonville Place as director Michael Moore made his way towards the theatre.
“It’s really an honour to be here,” said Moore, speaking to reporters. “This is where my family is originally from. My grandfather was born just west of here,” the director said as he explained the reason behind why he chose London to screen the film.
“I wanted this movie to begin where my family began,” he said. “And frankly, I also wanted to see just how much of this Toronto press would actually drive to London,” Moore joked. Several Toronto reporters did, in fact, make the trip.
In addition to that, Sicko was partly shot in London. The film criticizes America’s lack of public health care. And for comparison, it highlights instances of medical treatment given to patients at St. Joseph’s Hospital as an example of Canada’s health care system.
Dressed semi-casually in a jacket-and-jeans combo, Moore continued up the red carpet in his New Balance running shoes to another group of microphone-holders. This time, he took the opportunity to underline a key issue for Canadian viewers of his film.
“I hope they will see the importance of preserving what is a great system,” said Moore, although he did stress the fact that it still needed more funding. “But I think this movie will act as a great warning to the great Canadian public not to go the American way.”
As applause broke out over the ever-growing crowd, Moore was ushered towards the theatre doors but stopped short of the entrance to speak to a wheelchair-bound woman who was holding a sign that said “London healthcare saved my life and all I had to pay for was parking.”
Moore listened quietly as the woman, Larissa Gerow, told him her survival story.
She was hit by a truck four years ago while riding her bike and suffered a broken neck. Medics arrived at the scene within minutes. She believes she would have died if they hadn’t gotten there are quickly as they did.
The injury left her confined to a wheelchair, but she’s very grateful to the health care system that saved her life, a system that continues to provide her with the care she needs.
“And how much did that cost you?” asked Moore.
“Nothing,” was Gerow’s simple answer. “Well, my parents paid for parking.”
Moore smiled and replied “I’m so honoured to have you here.”
Afterwards, he got the whole crowd cheering by shouting out “Canadians” as he entered the theatre doors, getting ready to introduce his film to the night’s select audience.
Moore’s co-host for the evening, Canada AM film critic Richard Crouse, was also on hand. Having seen the film earlier that day, Crouse offered up his two cents. “I walked out and kissed the ground, happy to be a Canadian,” he said.
As an end to the red-carpet Q-and-A, Moore turned down an offer to apply for Canadian citizenship, but said “you’re all welcome to come to our country.”
And although he had earlier declined to tell the media about his next documentary subject, Moore laughingly added a comment that could be taken as a clue into what that issue might be. “We have wonderful immigration policies.”
But this wasn’t the scene of a gruesome crime, and the people weren’t blood-thirsty voyeurs.
The event was the London debut of Sicko, and hundreds of fans surrounded the red carpet outside the Silvercity at Masonville Place as director Michael Moore made his way towards the theatre.
“It’s really an honour to be here,” said Moore, speaking to reporters. “This is where my family is originally from. My grandfather was born just west of here,” the director said as he explained the reason behind why he chose London to screen the film.
“I wanted this movie to begin where my family began,” he said. “And frankly, I also wanted to see just how much of this Toronto press would actually drive to London,” Moore joked. Several Toronto reporters did, in fact, make the trip.
In addition to that, Sicko was partly shot in London. The film criticizes America’s lack of public health care. And for comparison, it highlights instances of medical treatment given to patients at St. Joseph’s Hospital as an example of Canada’s health care system.
Dressed semi-casually in a jacket-and-jeans combo, Moore continued up the red carpet in his New Balance running shoes to another group of microphone-holders. This time, he took the opportunity to underline a key issue for Canadian viewers of his film.
“I hope they will see the importance of preserving what is a great system,” said Moore, although he did stress the fact that it still needed more funding. “But I think this movie will act as a great warning to the great Canadian public not to go the American way.”
As applause broke out over the ever-growing crowd, Moore was ushered towards the theatre doors but stopped short of the entrance to speak to a wheelchair-bound woman who was holding a sign that said “London healthcare saved my life and all I had to pay for was parking.”
Moore listened quietly as the woman, Larissa Gerow, told him her survival story.
She was hit by a truck four years ago while riding her bike and suffered a broken neck. Medics arrived at the scene within minutes. She believes she would have died if they hadn’t gotten there are quickly as they did.
The injury left her confined to a wheelchair, but she’s very grateful to the health care system that saved her life, a system that continues to provide her with the care she needs.
“And how much did that cost you?” asked Moore.
“Nothing,” was Gerow’s simple answer. “Well, my parents paid for parking.”
Moore smiled and replied “I’m so honoured to have you here.”
Afterwards, he got the whole crowd cheering by shouting out “Canadians” as he entered the theatre doors, getting ready to introduce his film to the night’s select audience.
Moore’s co-host for the evening, Canada AM film critic Richard Crouse, was also on hand. Having seen the film earlier that day, Crouse offered up his two cents. “I walked out and kissed the ground, happy to be a Canadian,” he said.
As an end to the red-carpet Q-and-A, Moore turned down an offer to apply for Canadian citizenship, but said “you’re all welcome to come to our country.”
And although he had earlier declined to tell the media about his next documentary subject, Moore laughingly added a comment that could be taken as a clue into what that issue might be. “We have wonderful immigration policies.”
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